


Leave Your Hat On

by Bunnywest



Series: Home 'verse [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Chris Argent the preachers boy gone bad, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, Explicit Sexual Content, Lust at First Sight, M/M, perfect match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: In a world where your soulmate's name appears on your wrist the first time you touch, Derek's spent years waiting for his soulmate. While he's waited, he's warmed more than a few beds in Beacon Hills.That all changes when he finally shakes hands with the hot guy at the lumber yard.





	Leave Your Hat On

**Author's Note:**

>  

Chris Argent is no longer the town’s dirty boy, and he’s all right with that. He fucked his way all through his twenties and into his early thirties, and enjoyed every minute of it. But he’s slowed down lately. He refuses to admit he might be getting jaded, and blames it on work. To a degree, it’s even true – he manages the lumber yard now, and it takes a lot more of his time. He can’t just down tools and leave when someone catches his eye.

Well, okay. Maybe sometimes he can, when he sees somebody who’s worth it.

Like today. He glances out the office window and sees Tom Hale’s truck pull up, probably here to collect the hardwood flooring he’s ordered. But it isn’t Tom who gets out. Instead there’s a tall, muscled, bearded young man in a sinfully tight shirt and ass hugging jeans. The grandson, probably. Chris has heard that the kid likes to have a little fun, and looking at him, he thinks that maybe he’d like to get in on that. He lets his eyes linger on the body in front of him and thinks, _Yeah_.

He makes the effort to brush some of the sawdust off his jeans, slips off his singlet so he’s shirtless and his tattoos are on display, and perches his cowboy hat firmly in his head. He adds his work gloves, just to complete the picture. He knows exactly what he looks like, and he smirks at himself in the small wall mirror before opening the door and striding across the yard, his boots crunching on the gravel. “Y’all need a hand?” he calls out as he approaches.

Bearded and Pretty looks up at him, looks him up and down, and breaks out a simply stunning smile. He has to be a Hale, looking like that. Chris strips off a glove and extends a hand. “Chris Argent.”

“Derek Hale,” the young man responds, taking his hand. As soon as their palms touch, there’s a rush of sensation, and it feels like all the air’s been knocked out of his body. He makes a sound like he’s been gut punched, and Pretty Boy ( _Derek, his soulmate’s Derek_ ), makes a similar noise.

Time stops.

Their eyes lock together, and the feeling of _rightyesgoodmine_ vibrates through Chris, right to his very core. He’s found his soulmate, long after he’d given up all hope, and he wants to shout it from the rooftops. Chris stares, transfixed, as names appear on their wrists. Derek stares as well, but it’s Chris that he’s looking at, wide eyed with wonder. Then unexpectedly, he wraps a hand around the back of Chris’s head and pulls him in for a bruising kiss.

Chris goes eagerly, helpless to resist the pull of attraction deep in his gut, urging him to _take, claim, mark_. They come together in a clash of teeth and tongues, the kiss messy and desperate and absolutely perfect. When Derek finally pulls away, his eyes are bright and he gives Chris another of those breathtaking smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself, sweet thing.” Chris smiles back, wide and bright. He pulls Derek close, unable to stop his hands from roaming over his ass. Derek Hale. His soulmate is _Derek Hale._ He’s heard the name, but somehow their paths have never crossed before now.

Derek wraps his arms around Chris’s shoulders and leans into his embrace. He hesitates long enough to ask, “Mind if I scent you? It’s a Werewolf thing – I gotta –“

Chris nods, and tips his head back with a deep chuckle. “You do what you gotta do, baby. I know how it is.”  He feels Derek’s breath hot against his skin as he buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, and it occurs to Chris then. His soulmate’s a _werewolf._ His daddy’s gonna be _so pissed._ He can’t help but huff out a quiet laugh.  Derek hums against his throat, scenting him eagerly, desperately, and Chris’s body responds to his closeness. Hell, he’d wanted to take the kid to bed anyway, see if the stories about him were true, but the soul bond between them just makes that want sharper, deeper. He grabs Derek’s ass tight and rocks their bodies together, can feel Derek’s erection firm against his own.

He tugs at the back of Derek’s hair and raises his head from where he’s been kissing along Chris’s collarbone, but it’s only so he can claim that pretty mouth again. Derek kisses him back, hard and hungry, and it’s better than any kiss Chris has ever had, because this man’s _his._ He closes his eyes and gives himself over to the taste, the feel, the everything that is Derek Hale. They stay like that for long minutes, heedless of their surroundings, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, until finally Derek pulls back and green eyes stare into Chris’s. “You wanna take this somewhere with a bed?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“Fuck, yes.” Chris grabs Derek’s hand and drags him towards his truck. As he goes, he waves at one the men working in the yard. “CJ!” The man stops what he’s doing and looks over. Chris holds up his and Derek’s linked hands, showing off the names, displaying his prize. “Gonna be out a couple of days. Personal business.” 

CJ grins widely. “Congratulations!” 

Chris tosses the keys to the yard over and the man catches them deftly. Chris takes two more steps before he stops, considering. “Make sure Tom Hale’s hardwood gets delivered, no charge. Tell him Derek got busy.”

Derek stops walking long enough to pull out his phone and type a simple text. He shows it to Chris before he hits send. Chris sees the name of the group chat Derek’s messaged –  **_Pack_**.

**Found my soulmate. Chris Argent.**

 

“Who’d you tell, sweet thing?” Chris asks, curious.

Derek’s smile is blinding as he answers “ _Everyone_.”

His phone starts lighting up immediately with responses, buzzes with an incoming call. Derek looks at it for a second before answering the call. He mouths _‘Alpha’_ at Chris, and he understands. You always take your Alpha’s call. Derek’s not on the phone for long. Chris hears, _No,  I’m not kidding_ and _So happy, Pops,_ and with a shy glance at Chris, a quiet _Yeah. He is_. Tom says something that makes Derek blush scarlet to the tips of his ears, and damned if Chris doesn’t think it’s the cutest thing.  Finally Derek says, “Thanks, Pops. I’ll call, okay?”

He ends the call and ignores the ringing that starts immediately, turning his phone off.  “Everything okay?” Chris asks.

Derek nods. “He called to say congratulations and tell me I have a week off.”

“A week, huh?”

“Says we should take some time to bond.” Derek takes Chris’s hand, and the contact’s like a bolt of electricity running through his body. Then he leans in and kisses him, soft and slow and tender, plush lips against Chris’s. When he pulls away, Derek quirks an eyebrow in a way that makes Chris want to throw him over the hood of the car and ravage him, and says, “You said something about getting busy?”

“Oh baby. You have no idea. I’m gonna ride you so damn hard, you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven,” Chris breathes in Derek’s ear, and he doesn’t miss the shiver than runs through Derek at his words. “Shall we go back to my place?”

Derek nods eagerly before pressing Chris against the side of his truck and scenting him again, take great greedy sniffs and rubbing his stubble down Chris’s throat.  “Smell so fucking good,” he moans. Chris tilts his head further and lets Derek suck a bruise into the tender skin of his neck, smiling to himself.

He has a  damn soulmate, and he's hotter than sin, and Chris thinks he might be a little bit in love already.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s only a short drive back to his place, and Derek follows Chris in his own car. Even the short separation has Chris itching with need, and he breathes a sigh of relief when Derek pulls up behind him.  He opens Derek’s car door for him and pulls him close. “Hey, gorgeous,” he purrs.

“Hey yourself,” Derek replies, mouth quirking up in a grin as he runs a finger over his name on Chris’ wrist. “Wanna go inside and not leave for a week?”

Chris lets out a throaty laugh. God, he likes this kid already. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin.”

As soon as they’re in the door they’re kissing again, but now they’re alone, the urgency’s dissipated, and they take their time, dallying over soft kisses, letting their hands linger on skin as they slowly strip each other down. Chris lets out an appreciative whistle when Derek pulls his shirt off. “Damn, kid. That’s a pretty, pretty sight.” He spends long minutes running his hands over Derek’s chest and abs, kissing and licking, teasing Derek’s nipples with his teeth and delighting in the sounds he draws out.

Derek finally pushes him away, but only so he can undo his belt and shuck out of his sinfully tight jeans. He steps out of them and Chris grins at what he sees because Jesus, Derek’s hung. “Oh baby. We’re gonna have such fun,” he croons. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Derek reaches out and undoes Chris’ belt buckle as well, shoving his jeans down and taking Chris’s own hardening length in hand. “Yeah? You gonna return the favor?”

Chris smirks. “Baby, we’re gonna do it all.”

They finally make it to the bed, and Chris does what he promised, riding Derek slow and dirty, with sinuous rolls of his lean hips and a mile wide smirk.  

He keeps the cowboy hat on.

Derek fucks up into him expertly, and Chris pants out, “Damn, kid. You really know how to use that thing,” as he rolls his hips again and moans and finally comes on Derek’s cock.

Derek’s just smiles, bright like the sun, and chases his own release.

 

* * *

 

 

Afterwards, they shower and then Chris drags Derek back to bed. He doesn’t do anything but hold him close, and Derek revels in it. Stiles had tried to describe how meeting your soulmate felt, but he was a kid when he met Peter, and it’s been a long time. Derek wasn’t prepared, wasn’t expecting this overwhelming rush of _goodyespleasemine._ They lay there contentedly, Derek soaking up the rush of chemical cocktail that’s coursing through his brain right now. He can _feel_ Chris, bright and strong and pulsing in the very core of him. It’s like a pack bond, but not.

Chris nudges him. “Derek?”

Derek picks up a sour note in Chris’s scent, discordant against the satisfied sweetness he’d been enjoying, and he rolls over so they’re facing. “What’s wrong?”

Chris has a serious expression on his face. “You really okay with this?”

Derek props himself up on one elbow and frowns. “With what?”

“This whole soul mates thing. I mean, I’d understand if you wanted to walk away. Lord knows, I’ve got more than a couple of years on you, baby.” Chris sounds uncertain.

Derek frowns. Technically, Chris is right. It’s possible to ignore a soul bond. It’s not _pleasant,_ but it’s possible. Derek just doesn't know why Chris would think he wants to. He responds by leaning forwards and kissing Chris gently on the cheek. “I don’t care.”

Chris seems determined to dissuade Derek. “I don’t exactly have the best reputation, either.”

Derek kisses Chris again. “I don’t care if you fucked the entire Beacon Hills Senior Citizens Society just last week.”

That draws a laugh out of Chris. ”The _entire_ Senior Citizen’s Society? Even Old man Elliot?”

“I wouldn’t care,” Derek reiterates. “You’re mine. Besides,” he adds with a wry grin, “My bedposts might have a few notches of their own.”

Chris smiles at that, and the sour note dissipates. “Yeah, I maybe heard that a time or two.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” Chris shakes his head. “So then you know it doesn’t matter, not with us.”

“You’re sure, baby? Cause y’know, there’s nothin’ I’d like better than to get down and dirty with you and keep for the rest of my damn life, but I need to know you’re willing.”

Derek knows then that he needs to confess something. He sits up in bed, and Chris follows suit. “You know why we never met before today, Chris?”

“Now that you mention it, baby, how come I never did see that sweet face of yours in my yard?”

Derek can’t help the blush that rises. He feels like he’s twelve and telling his mom that he thinks he likes girls _and_ boys. “Because I had the biggest crush on you.”

Chris’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah? So how come you never came by?”

“Because you were my dream guy, and I knew you only do casual, and I didn’t think I could take it, just being a one night stand,” Derek admits. “I stayed away so I didn’t end up heartbroken and pining for what I couldn’t have.”

Chris stares at him for a moment, and then his impossibly blue eyes light up. “You’re tellin’ me, baby, that you always wanted me?”

“Yeah.” Derek sighs. “I only came today because Tom sent me.” He turns to face Chris and drapes his arms around the other man’s neck, pulling him in so their foreheads touch. “It's stupid. All that time I was waiting for my soulmate and avoiding you. We could have had this _years_ ago.”

Chris laughs. “That’s okay, sweet thing. We’re so gonna make up for lost time.” His scent turns rich and sweet again, and he drawls out, “We got a week to ourselves, baby. How about we start right now?”  and his hand slips under the sheets.

Derek gives Chris what Stiles calls one of his panty-dropping smiles. “How about we do?”

 

* * *

 

 

They spend the next three days having sex in every way imaginable.

There’s no finesse to what they do. It’s hair pulling and face fucking, quick and dirty hand jobs and love bites, rimming and tongue fucking and sudden, desperate orgasms that make Derek howl and Chris curse a blue streak. It’s doggy style and kitchen tables. It’s Chris fucking Derek while he’s bent over the back of the couch. It’s Derek pounding into Chris so hard that they actually manage to _break_ the couch, tumbling to the floor laughing, and then carrying on with what they were doing. It’s Derek using his strength to hold Chris up against the tiles in the shower and fuck him deep and long. It’s Chris fingering Derek open and teasing him till he begs.

 

It’s everything Derek ever wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

On day four, they actually talk, more than the casual snatches of conversation that they’ve managed between fucking and sleep. Granted, most of their conversations still take place when they’re sprawled in bed naked, but still. They talk about if it’s too soon to move in together. They talk about movie preferences. They talk about Derek’s job at the gym.

They talk about family.

“You know what the best thing is? Apart from having you of course, baby,” Chris says with a smile.

“What?”

“The best thing is gonna be telling my daddy.”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t get along?” Derek nestles in more comfortably against Chris’s side.

“We don’t. He’s spent years calling me up to tell me I’m gonna burn in hell, that I’m a disgrace. And you know the thing he tells me the most often? That I’ll end up alone.”

Derek resists the urge to get out of bed and go punch his future father in law in the face. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah, he really is.” Impossibly, Chris smiles, but there’s a hint of malice to it. “ _The Lord doesn’t bless shameless slatterns with soul mates, Christopher,_ ” he quotes. “And now, I get to call him up, and tell him that I found my soulmate, and that he’s a goddam werewolf. Old man’s gonna blow a gasket.”  His smile turns sharper.

Derek hums. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you make that call.”

Chris get s a mischievous glint in his eye. He reaches over and picks up his phone. “Wanna listen in?”  He dials, and hits speaker.

The phone only rings twice before it’s picked up. “Christopher? What do you want?”

“Hey, Papa. I’m calling with good news.”

“The only good news you could give me is that you’re coming back to the fold and giving up your sluttish ways,” his father says coldly. Derek winces on Chris’s behalf.

Chris though, doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, his smile gets wider. “Well, that’s kinda why I’m calling. I’m settling down. I found my soulmate, in spite of the sinful life I lead.”

Gerard’s silent for a moment. “Your soulmate? Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. Name’s written there clear as day.” He pauses for only a moment. “Don’t you wanna know who it is?”

“I suppose. What the poor girl’s name?”

Derek thinks that if there was a way to put a drumroll in there, Chris would have done it. “The _lucky girl_ ,” he drawls, “is Derek. Derek Hale. You know, grandson of the Alpha of the Hale pack?”

There’s a stunned silence, but Derek’s wolf hearing picks up Gerard’s increasingly rapid breathing. Finally Gerard spits out, “A werewolf. Your soulmate’s a werewolf.”

“That’s right, daddy. He’s a hot piece of ass, too. We just spent the week in bed. So it seems like all those times you told me I’d die alone turned out to be a big old pile of horse shit after all.” Derek swears he can hear the sound of teeth being ground. “I’m thinking of taking the bite,” Chris adds casually.

Derek looks at him wide eyed – they haven’t discussed _that_. It seems to be the thing that pushes Gerard over the edge. “Don’t you dare! No son of mine takes the bite! I forbid it, do you hear me! _Forbid it!”_ he thunders.

Chris just laughs. “Oh, Daddy. Like I give a damn what you think.”  And he hangs up on Gerard, who’s still sputtering and fizzing with rage.

He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Damn, that felt good. I think I’m out of the family for good, though.” He doesn’t sound the least bit upset by the prospect.

A tiny part of Derek aches for Chris, growing up with someone like that. He pulls Chris close. “Doesn’t matter. You’re pack now.”

Chris kisses him lazily. “Yeah. Gonna make for some interesting family dinners, though.  Cause you know I had a thing with your uncle a few years back, right?’

Derek shrugs. “It was a long time ago, and Stiles was a kid. And you know nobody talks about those things. It’ll be fine.”

Chris shifts uncomfortably. “I gotta tell you. maybe Peter isn’t the only Hale I've had a roll in the hay with.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Chris’s mouth quirks up in a rueful smile. “I maybe took your big sister to bed a time or two as well. Or three.”

 _“Laura?”_ Derek’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

“Yeah. Wasn’t no big thing. She’d had a bad breakup, needed someone to love on her a little, make her feel better. And baby, did I make her feel better.” He smiles at the memory.

Derek remembers it, now he thinks about it. “Was this the middle of last year? Because she went from crying to content overnight. She wouldn’t say why, though.”

Chris smirks. “Yep. Poor darlin’ just needed someone to treat her right. She’s the sweetest little thing…”

Derek holds up a hand. “You can stop right there. It’s my sister.” He nudges at Chris. “Any other relatives you’ve bedded that you want to tell me about?”

Chris laughs. “Naw, baby. That’s all, I swear. You okay with it?”

Derek shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’ve both slept with half of Beacon Hills. Hell, I’ve slept with CJ.”

There’s a moment’s silence before Chris asks, “How was he?”

Derek makes a seesawing motion with his hand. “Filled in an hour or two. I wouldn’t go back for a second round.” He smirks at Chris and rolls them over so Chris is pinned beneath him. “Now _you_ , you’re a different story.” He nuzzles into the crook of Chris’s neck for a second, scenting him. “I could spend forever with you, and never get sick of it.” He bites down softly on Chris’s collarbone, a silent request.

Chris grins broadly, and tilts his head back in reply.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you really want the bite?” Derek asks later.

“Uh huh,” Chris runs a hand down Derek’s side where he’s curled up behind him. “How else am I gonna keep up, sweetheart? I’m no slouch, but damn, you’re gonna run me ragged.”

Derek smirks at that. Between his youth, his werewolf stamina, and his consummate skill, he managed to make Chris come four times before Chris begged off, pleading exhaustion.It's a feat Derek’s particularly proud of. He feels a little like he just beat John Wayne in a gunfight, if he’s honest.

“That’s true. We’ll talk to Pops.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek does get around to turning his phone on after five days together, he has 73 missed calls, 57 texts, and a series of voicemails that consist mainly of Stiles going “Chris Argent. _Chris fucking Argent_. Oh my god, Der, you two are perfect for each other. This is gold,” and then going off into gales of laughter, followed by more saying, “ _Chris Argent_. Just so you know, I’m still laughing.”  

There’s a message from Peter shortly afterwards. ”Sorry, nephew. Ignore Stiles, he’s an idiot. ' _Hey!'_   Hush, pup. We’re genuinely happy for you.” Derek can’t keep the smile off his face as he listens. He’d a had a brief moment of worry that Peter or Stiles might be uncomfortable with the whole thing, but he guesses it was long enough ago not to matter. Besides, Stiles and Peter are stupidly happy together.

He flicks through the slew of congratulations and comments from his family, a large percentage of them variations on _Are you ever going to answer your phone again?_ and _When can we meet him?_ “Chris? When do you feel up to a pack dinner?” he calls.

Chris pokes his head out from the kitchen where he’s preparing them a meal. “Whenever you like, sweet thing.”

Derek calls his Mom.

Talia voice is warm when she answers. “Derek! How’s my baby boy?”

“I’m twenty four, Mom,” he objects mildly.

“You’re still my baby. Now tell me about this man of yours. When are you two coming out of hiding? I need to threaten him properly,” she teases.

“I was thinking, tomorrow night?” It’s a Saturday, so Derek knows everyone will be off work, at least.

“Dinner at Mom and Dad’s,” Talia says decisively. Her tone softens. “I’m really so happy for you, darling. I told you it would happen.”

Derek smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.” His mother’s listened to him agonize over finding his soulmate since he was a teenager. “Thanks, Mom.” He hesitates before asking, “Do you think, if I ask, Grammy and Pops might go a little easy on Chris, just this once?”

Talia’s laugh rings out rich and clear. “Not a chance,” she tells him cheerfully.

Derek sighs. He thought as much. Chris comes out of the kitchen bearing a platter of cheese and cold cuts just as Derek hangs up. “Go easy on me? What are they gonna do, exactly?”

Derek groans. “Embarrass the hell out of us, probably. You should have seen how they tormented Peter when he and Stiles finally got together.”

Chris just laughs. “It’s fine sweetheart. Gonna have a hell of a job embarrassing me any. I'm shameless, remember?"

Derek looks Chris up and down where he's holding the tray and wearing nothing but fitted boxer briefs, looking like some sort of disreputable waiter, and nods. "You really are. Put the tray down, and get over here." he pats his leg in invitation.

Chris puts the tray down and sprawls lazily across Derek's lap, kissing him long and deep. Dinner can wait.

 

* * *

 

 Derek can’t even say he’s surprised when he hears that Peter and Stiles are making the trip down for the weekend. “As if we’d miss this,” Stiles told him when he called. “I wanna see you all misty eyed and swooning.”

“Shut up, Stiles. I’m not swooning. I’m just…happy.” Even as he says it, he knows it’s a lie. Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it. He came home last night and walked in the door to energetic hugs from all his family and a lot of good natured ribbing, and it had been great, but he’d missed Chris already, an ache he couldn’t soothe. He’d ended up ducking out about midnight and driving back over there. He’d crawled out of Chris’s bed at five am, leaving a sleeping Chris littered with marks where Derek had bruised his skin, the scent of them heavy in the air. He tried to wake him to tell him he was leaving, but Chris just waved a hand around vaguely to indicate he’d heard and burrowed under the blankets again. Derek doesn’t blame him.

The evening arrives far too quickly, and Derek showers and prepares to pick Chris up. Chris had offered to drive himself, but Derek had told him, ”No way. If I’m your driver we both have an escape route. Otherwise you’ll head home, and I’ll be left at their mercy.”

“Aw, darling. You think I’d throw you to the wolves like that?” Chris had drawled, his face wearing a wicked grin.

That’s the other thing about Chris. He’s hot, and he’s good in bed, _(so good),_ and he’s certainly smart, but apart from all of that, he’s more than okay with Derek being a Were. And it’s a big thing, because not everybody is. Chris though, takes it in his stride, talks openly about taking the bite, becoming pack. He teases Derek about it, telling him, _“Just you wait baby, I’m gonna nail you against the wall once I get bit.”_

He really is perfect, and it just makes Derek love him a little more.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris isn’t nervous about dinner with the pack. He probably should be, but he’s known Tom for years, and Derek will be there with him. He dresses in a deep blue button down, dark jeans and his beloved boots, shaves, does his hair, takes a couple of deep breaths, and steps outside just as Derek’s pulling up.  Derek gives him an appreciative once over. He whistles lowly, saying “You dress up nice.”

Chris looks at Derek. He’s wearing a maroon henley and tight jeans, and a leather jacket that Chris wants to strip him out of. “Same, baby. Look at you, all pretty for me.” He can’t help but add, “You sure we can’t sneak inside and fool around, forget dinner?”

Derek looks like he’s considering it for about half a second, but he sighs and shakes his head. “Nope. Gotta do it.”

Chris climbs in the car, leaning in to peck Derek's cheek and murmuring “But later?”

Derek gives a brilliant, bunny toothed smile. “Later,” he agrees, and his expression holds a world of promise.

They walk into the pack house together and Chris finds himself the subject of scrutiny as ten pairs of eyes are fixed on him.  Derek’s hand is splayed possessively over small of his back as he clears his throat and says, “Everyone, this is Chris.” Tom steps forwards and greets Chris with a beer and a nod.  Chris takes the bottle, and Tom gives him a warm smile before asking, “So, does this mean I get a discount at the lumber yard now?”

Chris laughs, and shoots Tom a grateful look. The question breaks the ice, and Derek introduces him around. He’s met most of the people here, it’s really only Ruth and Talia, Cora and Sandy who are complete strangers, which makes it a lot easier. Chris gets caught up in conversation with the sheriff, and he thinks that this isn’t so bad, maybe Derek was exaggerating. That’s when Ruth comes over, all smiles, tiny and harmless looking, and says, “Chris, could you come with me into the kitchen? I need a hand lifting something.”

Derek’s eyes go wide and he tries to signal something that might be _run_ to Chris, but Ruth’s grip is unrelenting as she leads him into the kitchen. When they get in there, there’s nothing to lift, of course, and it occurs to Chris belatedly that Ruth’s twice as strong as him anyway. She looks him up and down for a moment before picking up a large knife. “I was happy to hear Derek found his soulmate, you know. That boy’s as soft as they come, and he deserves someone special.”

Chris nods along in agreement. “He’s a tender soul, that’s for sure. I figured that out already.”

“So you understand my looking out for him. He’s my only grandson, and I’m _very_ protective.” She grabs a stack of carrots and starts dicing them with more force than Chris thinks is strictly necessary. “You may be soul mates, but that’s no guarantee of a happily ever after,” she continues. She picks up a cucumber and places it on the board. “So I just want you to know, if I ever hear so much as a whisper that you’ve hurt my boy, or cheated on him, it’ll end _very badly_ for you.” She brings the knife down in a vicious swing, cutting the the cucumber in half and leaving the knife buried deep in the wooden board. She turns and faces him, eyes blazing, claws out, looking absolutely terrifying.

Chris swallows, taking in the tiny woman in front of him who’s committing violence against vegetables, and chooses his words carefully. “Ma’am, I gave up all hope of finding someone to settle down with years ago. Figured I wasn’t good enough. But then Derek came along. And maybe he’s better than someone like me deserves. Hell, I _know_ he is. But Derek’s it for me, and if I thought I was ever going to hurt him, I’d walk away right now. “ He pauses for breath. ”But ma’am? I think Derek and I can be truly happy together.” He looks Ruth in the eye as he speaks. “Truth is, I think I’m in love with him already.” He tilts his head back, daring her to say otherwise.

Ruth stares at him hard for a moment, before her face splits into a smile, the fangs and claws disappear, and she opens her arms. ”Call me Mama Ruth, baby.”

Chris knows he just passed some sort of test, and looking at the knife embedded in the board, he gives a quiet prayer of thanks. Ruth pulls him in for a hug, and he’s still trapped in her energetic embrace when he hears Tom’s voice drifting through the door. “Ruth, stop threatening that poor boy!”

She laughs. “I’m the grandma. It’s my job.” Chris smiles at her, deliberately slow and sexy, and her cheeks go pink. “My word. Derek’s landed himself a handsome one, I’ll give him that,” she says, fanning herself with a gleam in her eye. Chris just laughs, and she gives him a squeeze before letting him go and turning back to making the salad, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

Over dinner, Chris almost gets whiplash trying to keep up with the five different conversations going on. In his experience, family dinners were always miserable affairs, with his father taking the opportunity to embarrass and interrogate his children over any real or imagined wrongdoings. This is all new to him, and he sits next to Derek, thighs pressed together under the table, and grins as he listens to the easy banter all around hm.

He’s caught off guard when Tom clears his throat and says, “So, Derek.”  Derek looks at his grandfather, brows twisted together, and sinks into his chair a little. Tom smirks and says,” I gotta say, son, I know I sent you to _get wood_ , but Chris here isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Derek blushes as the table erupts into laughter around them. “Oh god, it’s started,” he murmurs to Chris in an undertone.

John’s next. “I dunno, Tom. Maybe the poor boy was confused. I mean you did send him for _hardwood,_ and Chris looks like he’s got plenty of that.”  John cackles at his own joke, and Stiles, unsurprisingly, joins in, giving his dad a high five.

Then Stiles, the little shit, adds, “I hear that particular timber’s been pretty well seasoned,”with a wink, which makes Ruth snort her drink out of her nose.

“I hate you all,” Derek grumbles, cheeks reddening further, as Chris watches on, entertained. A few more timber puns fly around the table - Ruth asks Derek if he pined when he first saw Chris, Talia makes some comment about sparks flying when they rubbed their two sticks together, and Derek’s expression grows more pained by the minute.

Chris watches Derek carefully to make sure he’s not actually upset by the comments before deciding, what the hell. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. He nudges Derek, tips him an apologetic wink, and sits forwards, elbows on the table.

“Well, come on, folks. I think you’re being a little unfair.” he drawls, his expression pure mischief. All eyes turn to him. “It was me who wanted to carve my initials into this pretty boy’s trunk to begin with. And can y’all blame me, wanting to get my hands on that? I mean, look at him. Derek’s like some mighty fine flooring – he’s just begging to get laid.”

There’s a moments silence while they take in what he’s said, and then Tom throws back his head and roars with laughter, and the rest of the pack join in. Tom leans over and claps Chris solidly on the back. “Welcome to the pack, son. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”

Derek actually lays his head on the table, groaning. “This is unfair. Can we just stop?”

“Not a chance. This is too much fun,” Stiles tells him, grinning.

Derek shoots him a betrayed look. “I take back every nice thing I ever did for you, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugs. “I can live with it. Just answer me one question, Der.” He pauses for dramatic effect and waggles his eyebrows. “How long did it take you to _nail_ him?”

Derek throws a bread roll at him while Stiles hoots with laughter.

Chris hasn’t had this much fun in a long time. Not while he was dressed, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time dessert’s served, the teasing’s run its course, and Chris is relaxed and happy. Derek seems to be over his embarrassment, and he’s holding Chris’s hand under the table and feeding him chocolate mousse with the other, leaning in for a kiss between bites. Ruth coos at them shamelessly.

Chris wondered if anyone would mention his long ago fling with Peter, but as he suspected, nobody does – it would be crossing a line. In fact, Peter and Laura remain conspicuously quiet during the evening, just smiling quietly to themselves. Laura doesn’t mention their dalliance, but she does pull him in for a hug, and says too quietly for anyone else to hear, “My brother’s a lucky, lucky man.”

“Naw, baby girl. I’m the lucky one,” Chris breathes back, just as quietly, and she gives him a wide smile and one last squeeze before she lets him go.

Peter’s much the same. He approaches Chris while he's sitting alone, grinning as he asks, “What on earth will the single people of Beacon Hills do now you two are both off the market?”

Chris shrugs. “I’m sure there’s some young buck out there who’ll step up. I’ve heard whispers about the McCall kid.” 

Peter hums. “Stiles did say he’s making the most of his new stamina.”

They exchange a look, a nod, and Peter wanders off. The next time Chris sees him, he has Stiles pinned against a wall and he’s kissing him thoroughly.

Chris gets taken into the office with Derek, and Tom formally welcomes him to the pack and asks him about the bite. Chris says yes immediately. Tom insists he take some time to think it over, but they all know what his answer’s going to be. He _definitely_ knows what his answer’s going to be. He’s never experienced anything like this big, noisy, irreverent family, but he already feels like a part of it.

After dinner, they drive back to his place, what'll soon be their place, in relative silence. All the tension Derek had been carrying in his shoulders before the dinner has dissipated, and he’s smiling to himself. He glances over at Chris just as they pull up, and says, “Hey. You know what this is?”

“What is this, sweet thing?” Chris asks, voice husky.

Derek leans over and undoes Chris’s seatbelt, hand skimming over his groin, eyes dark with lust. “It’s _later_.” He licks his lips. "Feel like riding you. Wanna loan me that hat?"

They race to get in the front door and spend the rest of the evening rewarding themselves for successfully surviving the dinner. And afterwards, Derek murmurs against Chris’s chest, “So, you told Grammy you’re in love with me, huh?”

Chris runs his fingers through Derek’s hair. “Sure am. That okay?”

Derek kisses his way up the side of Chris’s neck, before whispering in his ear, “Sure is. It's perfect. Just like you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks later, Chris takes the bite, and Derek moves in with him.

They buy a new bed, one that’s just for them and nobody else, big and wide and sturdy enough for two werewolves who like to play hard.

 

Derek carves the headboard.

 

 

 


End file.
